


Birthday fic for @ordinaryink

by mithrel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baking, Blanket Permission, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Schmoop, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has had some weird customers, but nothing quite like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday fic for @ordinaryink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ordinaryink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinaryink/gifts).



> So I asked ordinaryink if she wanted a fic for her birthday, and she asked for AU, schmoop and baking. Might write more to this later.

He gets all kinds of customers. Parents whose kids dragged them in, and who generally want to leave before they have to buy anything; responsible would-be owners who’ve done their research and know exactly what they want (not as many of those as he’d like, unfortunately) and an alarming number of people who are too stupid to be breathing, let alone own a pet.

But this guy…he’s different from most of Stiles’ customers. It’s not just that he’s gorgeous, tan skin and muscles and intense eyes. It’s not the fact that he’s holding what looks like three bus books, although that is odd.

It’s the scowl.

Stiles has seen some pretty angry people, but most of them don’t _come in_ like that.

“Can I help you?”

The guy looks up, his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. “How do I get to 34th Street?” he asks. More like growls.

Stiles puts his hands up, since he doesn’t want to piss the guy off, but… “What’s the cross-street?”

The guy grits his teeth, shifts his books to one hand and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket. “Lincoln.”

Stiles thinks a second, then nods. “OK, there’s a bus that goes to 34th and Beech in ten minutes. Let me see your book.”

The guy hands them over and Stiles flips to the map page. “Take Bus 30 to 34th and Beech; that’ll be about ten minutes’ walk from Lincoln, but if you cut down this alley here, you can shave two minutes off that…” He digs out a marker and highlights the route.

The guy nods, takes his book and leaves.

“You’re welcome!” Stiles calls after him.

***

It’s just one of those things, like the time the guy tried to sneak a ferret out under his jacket. Stiles doesn’t expect to see the guy again.

But a few days later, there he is, looking marginally less likely to attack someone. He waits for the few people in the store to check out, then comes up to the register. Stiles notices he’s holding a tupperware container.

“Here,” he says, setting down the container. Stiles blinks at him, but he doesn’t add anything, so he opens the Tupperware, expecting anything from anthrax to body parts.

He does _not_ expect chocolate chip cookies.

The guy fidgets under his stare, then blurts out “Alright, look, I’m new in town, and my asshole roommate gave me directions that you’d need a physics degree to understand, so I came in here, and I followed your directions and actually made it in time for my appointment.”

“O…kay,” Stiles says, giving the cookies a pointed look.

The guy coughs, embarrassed. “So I figured I’d thank you, and everybody like chocolate chip cookies, right?” He glares at Stiles as if daring him to disagree.

He picks up a cookie, figuring they’re store-bought, since no way can this guy bake.

When he takes a bite, however, he realizes, no, these are homemade. Gloriously, LDL-ignoringly homemade.

He doesn’t speak until he finishes the cookie, then can’t think of anything to say.

The guy’s lip quirks, then he says “I’m Derek.”

“Stiles,” Stiles replies, putting out his hand.

Derek shakes it.


End file.
